Mom.

. Is it hard to become a mother? -I've lived a lot of hard things but this takes the lead between the hard and the best. The two rows are opposite but that personage called "to become mother" is a cheat and participates in all the rows that are necessary. It is something that I had to deal with because I preferred white and sometimes black, but the grays and their nuances? "Do we really have to choose grays in our lives?" That was the question I asked myself before being a mom. And life has answered me with patience that yes, yes you have to choose it, it is the best option. Gray because it is a neutral position and when we become mothers we almost forget the certainty. Otherwise, I had to get used to living in an eternal internal war between what I want and what I can not do, it would be a 'not stop' of toxic emotions and a 'do not want to let go and not let flow' eternal. How annoying! Better I go for the gray and I start to get used to this ride because my heart tells me that fate will be truly beautiful. Being a mother is the most powerful experience a woman can experience. Nothing will match the moment when I could see and touch for the first time that little person that seconds before had been inside of me during 9 months. I remember seeing him leave me alone, I felt my heart swell with tenderness and above all gratitude. It was only in those seconds that I allowed myself to understand the life. It was there that I allowed myself to be in my mother's place and to imagine how she could feel since that January 16 at 7:30 am that I was born. I began my days when it was not only the lack of sleep, the consequences of childbirth, all the care that a newborn demands, not even the cocktail of hormones that makes us crazy until a few months later, nor the uncertainty about whether I'm doing it right or not, nor of the own doubts that the well-intentioned family created to me that with eagerness to help us what they obtained sometimes was to confuse me and to shoot my fear.
It was a lot more than that, it was the total and sudden break with my own identity, with that which until the moment of giving birth, had in my plans to do and to be, with all that had somehow defined me with my projects , My ambitions, my friends, my body, my time and everything that I called mine. I looked in the mirror and I did not recognize myself. Without warning I became a hag, with hair tangled and without a minute to give me a shower and change my pajamas, But who was that woman? It was still me but in a larger version of myself, but I did not know, I was not, I did not know my identity or where I was going, there was nothing that coincided with that life of lullabies, awakenings at dawn and continuous feeding, with that other life that seemed so remote, the one where I came and went at my whim And I was the owner of my own decisions, the one in which I had the time to do what I wanted, without any limits, responsibilities and commitments.
I could go out and do some sport or to the sea, all the time I wanted to be with my friends sitting in a place for hours laughing at any nonsense, going to the hairdresser to indulge my physique whenever I wanted and a million other things; I belonged. Because of course my whole being is now for another, all my time, my joy, my dedication my spirits my caresses, my words, my heat .. And of course time passes, of course if, before we only looked at each other in a powerful way then learned to interact more around him, he held his head, Then he turned around, sat down, learned to babble, then crawled, now almost nothing will start walking .. today he has given me a thousand smiles and told me several times MOM And that's when I feel the effort has been little! Someday I'll see him playing and running around in a park or I'll see him entering the sea alone on some beautiful beach like him And for nothing of the world I want to change for the one that was before and that little knew about the LOVE !!!